


On Edge

by Destiel_5eva



Series: On Edge 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Dean, Dom/sub Undertones, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3590433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_5eva/pseuds/Destiel_5eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You seem a little on edge, Mr Smith,” he says tone serious, not displaying any of the obvious amusement shining in his eyes. Dean swallows. That’s one way to put it. He shifts in his chair. Across from him sits his possible new boss. Who also happens to be the same man who, two days ago, fucked him into next week in the bathroom of Dirty Angels Nightclub.<br/>*#*#*#*</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Edge

“You seem a little on edge, Mr Smith,” he says tone serious, not displaying any of the obvious amusement shining in his eyes. Dean swallows. That’s one way to put it. He shifts in his chair. Across from him sits his possible new boss. Who also happens to be the same man who, two days ago, fucked him into next week in the bathroom of Dirty Angels Nightclub.

*#*#*

He’s celebrating! After almost a year and a half of job searching, he landed a job interview at the prestigious Sandover Bridge and Iron Inc. Dean knows he’s a good marketer. He’s got a little under ten years experience and more references than he can poke a stick at. He’s confident that he’ll land the job.

“Whiskey,” he tells the bartender, giving him a flirtatious smile. The guy smiles back, black-rimmed eyes twinkling as he gives Dean’s body a once over. Dean figures that if this is going to be his last Saturday night before he has to get back in the swing of corporate life, he might as well make it memorable.

Music pulses from the speakers situated around the room. People buzz about, talking and laughing and drinking together. Dean likes Dirty Angels. The atmosphere is friendly. It’s a place where he can go and let himself relax and have a good time.

He leans against the bar, tapping his finger against the smooth wood in time with the hip-hop beat. He finds himself thinking about Sandover. He’s done his research; he knows about the company—it’s history and the likes. But he doesn’t know anything about the people who work there. On the advertisement it said the usual ‘we’re looking for an enthusiastic person to join our friendly and hardworking team to fulfil an open executive marketing position!’ But everyone knows that that is a load of bullshit.

The bartender returns with Dean’s drink, giving him a wink as Dean pays. It succeeds in pushing all thoughts of Sandover from his mind. Why think about work when he could be thinking about all the ways he could land this sexy bartender into his bed?

“Hi.” Dean turns at the voice from behind him. It’s gravelly and quirks Dean’s interest. A man, in dark wash jeans and plain white button-down stands behind him. His hair is smoothed back from his face and Dean notices his eyes, a vibrant blue and crinkling in the corners thanks to his gummy smile.

“Hey,” Dean takes a sip of his whiskey, still holding eye contact.

“I couldn’t help but notice you standing here all alone. Not waiting for company are you?” the man asks.

“Nah. Just me.” Dean lets his eyes roam over the man. His shoulders are broad and he’s basically Dean’s height, his physique a little less bulky, more streamline, like a runner or swimmer. “I’m Dean,” he introduces himself.

“Castiel. I would offer to buy you a drink, Dean, but it seems you’ve got yourself covered,” Castiel chuckles and Dean grins at him, Castiel has this air about him. He’s confident, but not overbearing. And not to mention suave, the guy is practically oozing sex appeal, casually leaning against the bar the pops of colour from the dance floor lighting up his eyes and making them almost luminescent. He looks like he owns the joint.

“Well how about I buy you a drink?” Dean nods to Castiel’s empty hands.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I’ll have a margarita,” Castiel directs the last half of his statement to the bartender, who’s magically appeared. Dean watches as the bartender’s eye twitches a little, flashing between Dean and Castiel, his smile faltering for a second before he hurries off to get Castiel’s drink with a curt nod. Someone was hoping to get laid tonight. Dean feels a little bad for the guy.

Apparently Dean isn’t the only one to notice the poor guy’s falter. Castiel snorts. “Should I feel bad that the bartender thinks he’s had his lay stolen?”

“Has he?” Dean smirks, teasing making his voice light. Castiel laughs.

“Quite possibly,” he replies, his voice going huskier as he gives Dean’s leather jacket and jean ensemble a once over. Dean’s throat goes dry as Castiel blatantly checks him out; he gulps down his whiskey, trying not to wince as the liquid scorches his throat. “So, Dean, there any particular reason you’re here all alone on a Saturday night?”

“I’m celebrating,” he crows, excitement welling up.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve finally got a job interview! It’s been a year and a half.”

“That’s wonderful. Good luck. What industry are you in?” Castiel enquires. Before Dean can reply the bartender drops Castiel’s margarita on the bar next to them, his smile and inviting persona gone. He bites out the price and Dean hands over the cash, then he’s gone.

“I’m in marketing. So I haven’t really seen you around this joint before…” Dean tries to steer the conversation away from work. He doesn’t want to talk about _that_ he wants to move this along…

“I’ve been told I’m too wound up and stressed, apparently coming to these types of venues will help with that,” Castiel says before taking a sip of his drink, tongue poking out to chase the flavour from his lips. Dean swallows, watching his lips, subconsciously mimicking the movement. They hold eye contact, Dean noticing Castiel’s pupils dilating more as time goes on.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he says, hoping the other man catches his meaning. Downing the rest of his drink in one, he turns heading through the crowd towards the men’s room.

***

There’s only one other man in when Dean walks into the bathroom, before long he’s alone. Tapping his foot, he waits anxiously. Did he read this correctly? Would Castiel follow him?

The door opens and Dean sags in relief. Castiel flips the lock on the door before he crosses the room, pushing Dean against the tiled wall. They kiss furiously, teeth knocking together over lips and tongues mixing, soothing over nipped lips. Castiel has his hands in Dean’s hair, his body rubbing against Dean’s. Their breaths mix, muffled moans traded between their mouths. Dean’s gasps turn into pants, as he grows more aroused. His dick strains in his jeans and as Castiel grinds himself lewdly all over Dean he can feel Castiel’s arousal too.

Running his fingers down Castiel’s chest he revels in the feeling of taut muscle before making for the belt buckle. Castiel groans into Dean’s mouth as he gets the zipper on the dark jeans down, hand dipping in to grasp at Castiel’s dick through the silk boxers. It’s big, long and throbbing slightly in Dean’s hand. Dean twitches in anticipation.

“Now I can see how this helps relieve stress,” Castiel murmurs, planting kisses down Dean’s neck, alternating between suckling the skin into his mouth and nipping lightly.

“Oh yeah,” Dean chuckles, running his fingers down Castiel’s length, dipping under the waistband of the boxers. Castiel shudders when Dean grips his cock, Dean’s fingers play through the precome beading at the head, spreading it around to aid in his thrusts.

“Ah, God. Need to fuck you Dean,” Castiel groans, looking up. Dean’s mouth falls open at the sight of Castiel: eyes blown with lust, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, colour high on his cheekbones.

“Yeah. Yeah ok.” Releasing his hold on Castiel’s cock he digs into the pockets of his jacket, pulling out the condom and packets of lube he stashed there. He presses them into Castiel’s hands.

“Get your jeans off. Now,” Castiel demands, voice hardening. If anything, Dean gets harder at Castiel’s commanding tone. He immediately complies, working his jeans off, pushing them down until they pool at his ankles. His cock juts out in his boxers, a wet patch marring the front. Castiel gives him a look and Dean shucks them down too. “Turn around. Arms above your head.” Dean spins, bracing his forearms against the cool tiles. Excitement thrums through him; this is definitely how he wanted tonight to go.

Castiel’s hands grasp his cheeks, pulling them wide, exposing his hole. He hears Castiel’s murmur of approval and Dean preens slightly. He’s expecting lubed fingers, not a tongue. He jerks and has to stifle his cry into his arm. Castiel laves his tongue across the puckered flesh, swirling around and poking almost shyly. Dean shudders, his cock throbbing painfully. Holy fucking shit he’s getting a rim job in a public bathroom! Dean whines when Castiel pulls back, he arches his back, presenting his ass to Castiel. He needs Castiel to just do _something,_ anything. “Hush,” Castiel growls and Dean falls silent, closing his eyes tightly.

One lubed finger presses against his hole and Dean relaxes, it sliding in, thrusting slowly. Dean gasps, pressing back against Castiel’s touch. He feels Castiel move; stand from his kneeled position on the floor. He presses up against Dean’s back. “You like that huh? Me fingering your slutty ass in the bathroom of a nightclub?” Castiel whispers into Dean’s ear, nipping at the lobe of Dean’s ear. Dean gasps, nodding. “Of course you do.”

Castiel adds another finger and Dean moans when the tips of Castiel’s fingers brush against his prostate, pleasure zinging through him. Castiel thrusts his fingers in and out almost roughly, purposely missing Dean’s prostate every time. It has Dean squirming and shoving himself back against Castiel’s hard body. “What? What do you want, Dean?” Castiel taunts. Dean huffs, hearing Castiel chuckle. “Ok, ok.” Castiel presses against Dean’s prostate, rubbing his fingertips against the bundle of nerves. Dean jolts, a cry being ripped from his lips.

“Fuck! Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Cas,” Dean pleads, twisting to look over his shoulder at the other man. Castiel kisses him, forcing his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

“Of course,” Castiel breathes. He rolls the condom onto his straining cock, slicking his length. The feeling of Castiel entering Dean has his eyes rolling back into his head. He feels so full, being stretched wide. “Oh god,” Castiel mutters, forehead resting against the back of Dean’s neck as he bottoms out. Grinding his hips against Dean’s ass, Dean feels like he’s lit up, pleasure making him almost delirious.

Castiel’s thrusts are brutally precise, hitting Dean’s prostate every time. The slick slapping of skin is loud in the abandoned bathroom. Their moans and pants echoing in the relative silence, music still throbs from the nightclub. “You feel so good, Dean,” Castiel praises, fingers delving under Dean’s shirt to splay across his abdomen. “So good,” he groans, his thrusts speeding up almost imperceptibly, his balls slapping against Dean’s ass in an obscene manner.

“I’m gonna come, Cas,” Dean moans, body shaking with need. His cock dribbles precome, the pearly liquid sliding down his length. “I’m gonna come,” his voice hitches on a moan, his voice rising.

“No. Not yet,” one of Castiel’s hands sliding down to grip at the base of Dean’s cock, staving off his orgasm. Dean whines almost pitifully, Castiel grinding purposefully at his prostate, pleasure zinging through him, having him twitching.

“Please, Cas,” Dean whimpers, Castiel’s fingers tightening on his cock.

“Patience!” Castiel growls, biting at Dean’s earlobe again, before kissing and suckling the delicate skin behind his ear.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses, Castiel’s body heavy against him as he pounds into him. He needs to come so badly; it almost hurts. Dean knows that if he looks down, his cock will be red and swollen. God if only Castiel would let him come…

“Ok.” Castiel’s hand releases it’s tight grasp on Dean’s cock, beginning to stroke up and down. Dean comes with a sharp cry, pulsing over Castiel’s hand and the wall. His body shudders violently and he barely registers, Castiel’s own orgasm as Castiel’s hand milks every last drop from him before pulling back.

Dean rests against the wall, catching his breath. He glances down, watching as the cloudy liquid begins sliding down the navy tiles. Castiel is moving behind him, cleaning up.

“Here,” a damp paper towel is thrust towards him and Dean takes it, wiping away the lube from his tender hole before turning to the wall. They both rearrange their clothes, putting themselves back together. It’s beginning to get awkward, neither looking at each other.

“So um…” Dean turns to Castiel, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. Castiel surges towards him, pressing their lips together in one more passionate kiss before stalking from the bathroom. Dean’s left standing in the middle of the restroom half grateful and half sad that Castiel just left.

He doesn’t notice the business card tucked into his back pocket until he gets home that night. With a rue smile he tucks it away on his desk maybe he’ll call Castiel.

*#*#*

“Is something the matter, Mr Smith?” The fucking son of a bitch asks. Dean turns his most charming smile on the other man.

“No, everything is fine,” he replies.

“That’s good to hear,” Castiel Novak responds, shuffling through his interview notes. “Let’s start the interview then, shall we?”

“That sounds great.” Dean’s heart is pounding in his chest. Fuck! Only him. This would only happen to him.

“How about we start with, skills. Describe some of your acquired skills for me.” Dean’s not a stupid man. He can hear the double entendre in Castiel’s words. He refuses to acknowledge it. He’s here for a job interview. Who cares that he accidentally let the boss fuck him in the bathroom of a nightclub two days ago?

***

“That concludes our interview, Mr Smith. I will have an associate contact you within the week to inform you of whether you will be joining our team,” Castiel smiles, all corporate and none of the sincere gumminess of Saturday night.

“Of course,” Dean stands, holding out his hand for Castiel to shake. “It’s been a pleasure.” Dean leaves the office feeling dejected. Only him.

***

“Mr Dean Smith?”

“This is he,” Dean rubs at his eyes, glaring at the time. Eight thirty. Why the hell is someone calling him at eight thirty in the morning?

“My name is Zachariah Adler, from Sandover Iron and Bridge Incorporated. Mr Novak has expressed a high regard for you and well to tell you the truth he doesn’t like a lot of people but you… He doesn’t have a bad word to speak of. I’d like to invite you to join our team at Sandover.” Dean is speechless.

“Th-thank you so much,” he stutters, sitting bolt upright in bed.

“You’re very welcome, Dean. I’ll have all relevant paperwork emailed to you in the next couple days. Good bye.” Dean hangs up with a feeling of euphoria. He jumps up from bed, hurrying over to his desk, digging around for the business card. Where the fuck did he put it… he pushes aside stationery, stray pieces of paper searching desperately. The fuck… He breathes a sigh of relief pulling out the white card, which had somehow lodged itself in a thick paperback.

Dialling the number on the card, Dean paces back and forth across the room. Would Castiel even pick up? It’s a Thursday so surely…

“Hello this is Mr Castiel Novak, who is speaking?” Castiel’s voice is clipped.

“I can’t believe it,” Dean breathes, a hand brushing through his hair.

“I take it you got the call from Mr Adler,” Castiel’s voice is filled with amusement. “Welcome aboard, Mr Smith.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm willing to turn this into a bit of a series, made up of porny little ficlets like this, what do you all think? (If you have any suggestions about what you'd like to see in future parts let me know!)


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